


Wild Child

by Gh0stFl0ra



Category: W.A.S.P. (Band)
Genre: Blackie's kind of a dick initially, Blood Drinking, Blood and Gore, F/M, Lesbian Character, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Pansexual Female Character, Vampires, Why Did I Write This?, i'll probably delete this, vampire rules don't really apply here
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-14
Updated: 2020-07-17
Packaged: 2021-03-04 21:19:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,442
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25262980
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gh0stFl0ra/pseuds/Gh0stFl0ra
Summary: In college, you take what you can get.  A house for a suspiciously cheap price is bound to hold something strange inside. Except instead of creepy baby dolls or Cleveland Browns memorabilia, Eve and Beth's strange thing is a vampire.
Relationships: Blackie Lawless/Original Female Character
Kudos: 5





	1. Roaches, Rot, and Coffins

**Author's Note:**

> Trying something new, feel free to judge me. I'm sorry if this is incredibly out of character.

Eve's P.O.V

The house Beth signed off on feels-wrong somehow. The fridge is out of date, and full of rotting food, the upstairs bathroom has a cockroach problem, and there's a dinner plate sized hole in the living room wall. But, a bad home is better than no home. Plus, we're getting internet on Tuesday. I walk up the creaking staircase, box of ink black clothes and posters in hand. The bedroom I chose is somewhat barren, with a metal bedframe, bookshelf, and a slightly rusty radiator. A sliding closet door is placed next to the frame, ajar. I set my things on the floor, noticing something glint on the boards. A closer look reveals it to be a- razorblade? Must have been dropped on accident. The second bedroom is equally as empty, with a similar bedframe, and a large black coffin on the floor. It's possibly a decoration Chris forgot to move. I can live with it. The spare room seems to be a 'man-cave' with a covered pool table, an enviable amount of guitar and bass cases, and a minibar. 

"Dammit! That hurt!", Beth's yelp echoes to the second story, as I rush back to her. She dropped a box on her foot. 

"This is why I don't wear open toed shoes", I chide playfully. When I take it from her, I noticed she packed her flag with her pepto-pink wardrobe. 

"Your dad's not coming over soon, right?", I ask, to which she shakes her head. 

"The man thinks I'm dating the baseball captain, of course he isn't going to do a routine 'straight check' right away ", she air quotes, causing the two of us to laugh. 

"So, how are things with Danika, then?", she chirps. I sigh, explaining how she cheated a few months back. She pouts, not saying a word, before patting my arm. Weird gesture, but I'll take it. When we enter her room, the blonde seems disgusted by the decoration. Obviously, it would clash with her plan to paint the entire room cotton candy blue. "Chris never told me about this", she huffs. 

"We bought this place for the same amount as a used car, from a guy who played in a hair band in the 80's. You didn't think there'd be something 'off putting' in the house?", I get down next to it, examining the slight bloodstains and cut marks along the surface. Did they snort coke off of it? But, maybe not, if what Chris told me was true. Something to do with 'Blackie' being opposed to narcotics. I don't know enough to decide fully. 

By the time most of our things are unpacked and the old fridge unplugged, it's around 5:30 PM. The two of us are slumped on the sofa, watching a VCR recording of Murder, She Wrote. Beth pulls out her phone, and asks if we should order pizza. I shrug, speeding through the commercials. 

"You didn't say no," she dials , ordering half pepperoni, half olive. I mull the idea over, before deciding, 'Maybe I should give his band a chance'. 'Wild Child' seems like a safe bet, albeit a bit cheesy sounding of a title. Just as I put my earbuds in, Beth pokes me with one of her glittery acrylic nails. 

"I'll be back in 10 minutes, try not to do anything dumb, " she toys, ruffling my teased hair. 

"Got it", I give a thumbs up, before hitting play. It's not really that astounding in my opinion, but it's still fun to listen to. I walk back upstairs, to see if I could feasibly move the coffin to my room. Unfortunately, I can only do that by dragging it on the floor, which creates an irritating screech. Great. But, it gets the thing out of her bedroom. Is there even anything important in it, or is it just full of bricks to weigh it down? I put it in the opposite corner, anticipating how sore my shoulders will be in the morning. I lay down on the recently placed mattress, and look over at the box again. I'll hang the posters tomorrow, if my arms don't fall off first. 

But, only two thousand? Chris is famous, and aside from the easily mendable problems, i.e. roaches and a hole, why would he sell it for so low? Not to mention, we found the listing on his Instagram of all places. Did he commit some crime and need to leave the state as fast as he could, via selling it to two 21 year olds who have never paid a mortgage before? 

The pizza is eaten, the posters hung up, and clothes placed in the closet. Collapsing onto the bed again, I check the time. I guess I could take a short nap. Just as my eyes close, I hear a creaking noise, but pay no mind, assuming it's Beth going to her room. I don't notice the footsteps either, and succumb to the abyss of Dreamland. 

My dream consists of a series of strange images, including a birdcage with a blue snake inside, a painting of a bird being plucked, and a rotting cabbage. I wake up, slightly confused, only to be met with a strange looking man, dressed in a torn up bodysuit. Attached to the arm pieces and groin are buzzsaw blades. His heavily teased black hair has two strips of white in the front, and his bloodshot blue eyes are encircled in black. One of my arms is being held out, as he nearly cuts it with one of his blades. 

"What the hell are you doing?", I ask. He hisses at me, revealing a set of red stained fangs. Impulsively, I smack him, resulting in the stranger actually cutting me. I yelp in pain, as he nervously shushes me. He laps up the dripping blood, staring at me the entire time. A sort of 'fuck you' for trying to get him away. When he ends the grotesque display, he stands to full height. Six foot four, it seems. I scoot back, hitting the headboard.

"You're not into it?", the lunatic crawls onto the bed, as I clutch my arm. 

"What, being slashed with a buzzsaw by some creep who drank my blood?", I shoot back. He looks taken aback, even if jokingly. "How'd you even get in?", 

"You dragged me in here", the bloodsucker points to the now open coffin, "You taste really-good, had any sugary coffee today?", 

"Get.Out", I insist. He rolls his eyes, before running one of his fingers across the gash. Then, he comments on my hair. Something about how he envies how white I was able to bleach it. "Aren't you supposed to be asleep now?", 

"Believe me, I can stay up. Even if it makes me feel like puking", 

"I seriously refuse to believe you're a vampire, in Chris Holmes' house", I feel him spread out on the bed. ' I guess that's why he was so desperate. Because his roommate, or boyfriend, or what have you was such a nuisance'. 

"Ever heard of familiars?", the stranger questions me, as if he read my mind. I nod, "Guess who mine is", a pit forms in my stomach. Chris basically led us to a slaughterhouse. My hands start shaking, as he ends the conversation. 'Get off the bed, get off the bed', I think to myself, 'run, run to Beth's room and do something. ' I swing one of my legs off, hoping the creep doesn't notice. Then, the other. I look over at the blades on him, glinting in the lamplight. The one on his right arm is still stained crimson at the tip. 


	2. Author's Note: How Vampires Work In This Universe

Turning

  * To turn a person, a vampire will drink a person to near shock or death, then coax the person to drink their venom. The victim will proceed to sweat, their canine teeth will extend, and their senses will heighten. 
  * The process is painful, being likened to a high fever or persistent migraine. 
  * It's discouraged to turn children or animals, for fairly obvious reasons. Children will never grow up, leading to psychological problems, and animals can quickly become feral. 



Sunlight

  * Vampires can only stand sunlight from the late afternoon to sunset, but with the drawback of nausea, headaches, and sunburns. 
  * They don't burn up, unless exposed to early morning to midday sun. 



Blood drinking 

  * A vampire's fangs perform as syringes, puncturing an area, and sucking up the blood. 
  * The original practice was to lure victims in, kill them, and drink from the corpse. This fell out of style, with 'modern' vampires either working from a consent system, or drinking from sleeping victims. 
  * In Blackie's case, he uses the buzzsaws to create wounds, and drinks from them. 
  * Of course, they can drink from a variety of animals, but it's regarded as a 'last resort', similar to sucking bone marrow. The same thing can be said about blood bags. 
  * Each person has a different blood taste, depending on type, pressure, and sugar level. Vampires tend to prefer sugary or savory blood. 



Special Abilities

  * Vampires each have a specific ability, different from the traditional ones, such as shapeshifting into a bat. These can range from telepathy and seduction, to quick healing and pyrokinesis. 
  * These can be gained through being turned from vampires with that ability, or external factors, such as the moon phase the night a vampire is turned. 
  * Immortality is not considered special. No matter how many times you brag about it, Blackie. 



Sex

  * Vampires can have sex, but can't produce children from it. 
  * Polyamory is encouraged between vampires, for emotional purposes. 
  * Sex is also a way to reward a recently turned 'person' or tire a victim, leading to a free meal. 



Warding vampires off

  * The 'traditional' methods typically don't work, such as garlic or holy water. 
  * Silver can weaken a vampire, but is usually harmless. Religious relics function similarly.
  * Stakes are your best bet to kill a vampire, along with beheading. 
  * Salt rings are a good defense, as they provide a barrier, or a burning sensation when touched. 



I can add more onto this, if anyone shows interest. 


	3. LA Looking Back

Blackie's P.O.V

She's going to get someone, I can almost guarantee that. Whether it be some cops who would, realistically, call her insane; or one of the neighbors. They all did that. I notice the blood still on my finger, and suck it off. Delicious. Well, as long as she's out, it wouldn't hurt to peep around. There's a cheap looking amp plugged in a wall socket, a cased guitar leaning on top of it. Her closet's full of pitch black clothes, but the rest of her belongings are in a separate cardboard box. She's got a few posters semi unrolled. Unfortunately, they're for bands I've never heard of. 'Drab Majesty', 'Clan of Xymox', 'Ghost'. Jeez, I'm old.

I'd expect it though. College kids flock to cheap offers like bees to nectar. I should really give Chris more credit, especially since he's been my familiar since-1989? Kind of hard to tell. LA changes, but sometimes it makes your head spin. The men look less like yuppies and rebels, but more like standard gym rats. The ladies are no different, you'll see a regular Cindy Crawford next to some tatted blue haired chick. The teenagers are no different, with their mini-tv's in their pockets, and obsession with taking pictures of me- or their food. But, they all serve a purpose to me. Blood, sex, or just a good time.

Maybe I should have phrased that differently, because I know I'm not sleeping with the teenagers, or men. Dear God, no. Then there was that time I turned a woman who thought I was a drag queen. I'm never going to hear the end of that, am I? I unzip the girl's purse, and take out her skull patterned wallet. The driver's license says her name is Eve Morris, and she's got a blood donor card. Type O negative. Scrounging around further reveals her makeup bag, a weirdly colored bat charm on the zipper pull. She's got two tubes of lipstick, a black eyeshadow palette, some weird white fluid in a bottle-I hear two sets of footsteps approach the door. Scrambling, I toss both back in before hiding under her bed. The door opens, revealing a second pair of feet. Tanned, pink toenail polish, sandals. Next to black platform boots. 

"You're saying some guy got in here, cut you with a buzzsaw, and drank your blood?", a separate voice enters, presumably belonging to sandals girl. 

"Did you not see the giant friggin' gash on my arm?", Eve hisses, somewhat exasperated. Sandals girl scoffs, saying 'you probably cut yourself on accident'. An idea pops into my head. I reach a hand out, stalling ever so slightly, giving her just enough time to be 'safe'. 

I grab her ankle, as she screams, trying to pull free. She yanks at the back of it, hoping to rip my fingers away from it. Sandals girl has no luck, even when Eve helps. I pull myself from under her bed, fangs bared. Sandals girl is, apparently, a doe-eyed blonde with what look to be triple d cups. 

"What the fuck?!", she continues, as Eve presses her hand to her forehead, struggling to peel my fingers away from her. They're legitimately horrified, as I suddenly release my hand, nearly causing Blondie to fall over. "First the cheating barista, now this nutcase?", she questions, as Eve struggles to speak. She can only say, 'Not now, Beth'. The girls begin to bicker, their volume increasing. 

'This is just ridiculous', I think to myself, propping myself up on hands and knees. When Beth's back is turned, I slash at the back of her calf, and start to drink. She tastes-oddly like a mall pretzel. The ones that come with either too much or too little salt and a little paper cup of cheese dip. Nothing like Eve, but still good. 

"Get off of me!", the blonde yelps, as I suck up the blood. I don't listen, and continue until a wet sounding 'pop' lets me know the cells have started to clot. She runs to Eve, legs shaking. I stand up to full height, as the girls stare in disbelief. It's kind of funny, if I'm being honest. "Who are you?", they ask, breathlessly. 

"Chris didn't tell you about me?", I fake my shock, before Eve's eyes widen. She scrolls through something on her mini-tv. Her eyes travel to me, then the screen. 

"Blackie-Lawless?", she asks, confused. I smirk, running my hand through my hair. The unnerved girls don't know how to react. 

'Oh, come on.'


End file.
